Miscellany

Looking back at my previous posts, I thought I should share a few comments.

In my poem, My Husband, I expressed appreciation to Dean Koontz.   I wish I could say it's because he's my friend and mentor, but, alas, no.   He is my favorite contemporary author.   Guy gave me his most recent publication, Brother Odd, for Christmas, and it is a wonderful book.   Although it could stand on its own, I'd recommend reading Odd Thomas and Forever Odd first.   You won't be disappointed.   The character of Odd Thomas is delightful.   I want to take him home with me.

Also in 2006, Dean Koontz published The Husband -- another gift from Guy.  It's a thriller about a landscaper whose wife is kidnapped and held hostage for $2 million -- not an amount your average working person keeps on hand.   I won't spoil the plot -- you should read it. Start it when you have several hours, because you won't want to put it down once you've started.   My inspiration was a line spoken by Mitch, the lead character in the story.

"I'm a husband. I cultivate. Preserve."

That's good stuff, so I built on it.   Thanks, Dean.  You rock!

My poem looks at the word husband from its agricultural definition and carries those characteristics into a marriage relationship.   A husband tills and cultivates.   He faithfully manages plants and animals in his care with a goal of improving the welfare of the life under his husbandry.   I think that's true of any good husband.

I was also looking back at my blog post SPAM and Eggs -- which reminded me that Guy and I recently saw Spamalot.   (Another gift from my most excellent husband who truly knows my heart.)   Here's my quick review of the show.

Delightful!   Hilarious!   It's the only show I've ever seen that had the audience laughing in the Overture.   I don't know how well it would appeal to folks who like Monty Python but have not seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail.   If you don't like Monty Python, don't waste your money on a ticket to Spamalot.

The show differed a bit from the movie.   Several characters were combined, and the Lady of the Lake, who is only mentioned in the movie, practically steals the show in Spamalot.   You'll see most of your favorite bits, but some were omitted.   The Bridge of Death scene is gone as is The Tale of Sir Galahad at Castle Anthrax.   However, most of your favorites are there, as well as a few new bits.

From a theological perspective -- Spamalot, like most Monty Python, is somewhat disrespectful towards religion.   Spamalot parodies the Arthurian grail legends, so God does enter the picture.   Well, His foot does, in any case.   If you're prone to being offended, there's plenty to offend -- self-flagellating monks, irreverent depictions of God, and the zany musical number You Won't Succeed on Broadway (if you haven't any Jews.)   Add to that the YMCA-like number with Lancelot, and the squeamish should definitely stay away.   Evangelically-minded souls could use the show as a springboard to discuss the understandings and misunderstandings of the nature of God in the Middle Ages -- perhaps over a cup of latte or a nice glass of port after the show.   Or not.   The show is funny.   It's not instructional.   It doesn't offer any great social commentary.   It's just funny.

It's funny, that is, if you find the Black Plague, shrubbery, dismembered knights and coconut-laden swallows uproarious -- which I do.   If you don't, I hear The Lion King is excellent.   If you dine before the show -- save room for SPAM.   The Spammobile was parked in front of the theater, giving away free samples.

My Husband

My Husband
(For Guy, with grateful appreciation to Dean Koontz)

Years ago, you captured my heart with a kiss.
You bound it to yours with dreams and passion.
But my heart is not a beast that, once vanquished,
Is forever tame.

My heart is a creature caught yet wild --
Faithful, but prone to wander.
Bind it to yours with silken chains
Of tenderness and desire.

Like other wild things
Captive, but not crushed,
My heart requires tending --
Protection and provision.

Brand my breast with the fire of your passion,
Train and nurture my heart with your love.
Create for me a peaceful habitat
Where I can thrive and grow strong,
For you are my husband.

Years ago, you took my hand in yours.
Before God and many witnesses,
We said the words.
I gave myself to you, and you, to me.

We pledged to love,
To honor and to cherish
For as long as we both draw breath.
You cleave to me. I cleave to you
For you are my husband.

My Father created me and
Gave me a will of my own.
My will is vigorous and oft
Grows wild and uncontrolled.

My will is a robust vine ungoverned.
My heart, an undressed vineyard.
I wilt in the heat of trials.
My fruits wither on the vine.

Train my wandering heart with gentleness,
Uphold me with your strength.
Bind my heart upright to you
So I will grow with grace and flourish.
For you are my husband.

Your touch is like water on parched earth.
Nothing else will slake my thirst.
Your love makes me grow beautiful.
In your safety, my harvest is abundant.

Set your seal upon my lips,
Your brand upon my breast.
Bind my heart to yours and yours alone.
Fix your mark upon me.

For while we both yet breathe,
You are my husband.

With gentle attendance
And unbridled ardor,
You aid and nourish.
You strengthen and encourage.
You provide and protect,
Cultivate and preserve.
You are my husband.

Copyright 2007 Sandra D. Coburn All rights reserved.